I started learning Spanish more than 14 years ago, just before I met my husband, a native Spanish speaker. During that time I put various levels of effort into keeping up with my Spanish. And I’m okay at it. I read Spanish well, my listening comprehension is good, writing is a favorite, and my active conversation…well, Danger, Will Robinson!
When you start learning a language you know you’re going to bungle it. Sometimes it’s cute. It’s probably expected. It’s definitely funny. As I stumbled through early Spanish interactions with family and acquaintances, I blushed, I stuttered, I made mistakes. I didn’t mean to say I was pregnant (embarazada), I meant to say that I was embarrassed (avergonzada). I meant to say I was scared (tengo miedo) not that I had shit (tengo mierda). I certainly didn’t mean to call your son (niño) a girl (niña). But it’s okay. When I messed up we laughed and I learned a little more of the language.
Once you know enough of a second language to have meaningful conversations about family values, Donald Trump, and the state of the world today, mistakes aren’t as funny. Innocent mistakes can be confusing at best and offensive at worst. No one’s laughing in any language when they find themselves insulted, accident or not.
I’ve been known to put my foot in my mouth in English, but most days I express myself well. I count myself as fairly intelligent and I am a talker. It is beyond painful to visit my in-laws in Mexico and not connect with them on the level I’m accustomed to. I can hold my own- order food, buy bus tickets, read a newspaper, travel alone in a Spanish speaking country. But all my in-laws get to know is my 12-year-old basic self. And who wants to be basic?
When asked at a birthday party about el payaso (the clown) Trump, I’d love to be able to say he’s so much more than a clown, many people actually take him seriously, most Americans aren’t like him though many do have similar concerns. But I don’t. In the moment I am paralyzed by fear of unintentionally offending someone. The only words and phrases that come out are those I can say confidently and simply.
When our family welcomes us into their home, tours us around the region, spares no expense, and plans and hosts a birthday party for my son, you bet your bottom dollar I want to say ‘I can’t express how much your thoughtfulness and hospitality means to us. Thank you for all the time you put into planning this amazing party. My son had so much fun. It was unbelievable! Thank you for creating a memory he’ll never forget.’ Instead I said, ‘Gracias por todo lo que hiciste. ¡Fue inolvidable! Me gusto mucho.’ (Thank you for everything you did. It was unforgettable! I liked it a lot). I’m a regular Spanish Shakespeare!
When I want to express an opinion? I can’t even.
How many times does the conversation get too difficult to continue without confusing someone? How many times does it get too delicate to go on without offending? How many times can I say ¡Me gusta! ¡Que bien! ¡Muchas gracias! or Bueno?
I use these words more often than I can count while visiting family. As when I find myself replying again with ¡Me gusta! I want to shout, ‘This isn’t me! I’m more than me gusta! I’m more than labels like Sister-in-law, Mom, Wife, and Librarian. I’m funny and clever, willful and passionate. I find solace in nature. I adore making connections and am a writer at heart. I’m so much more than me gusta!’ But I don’t shout. Instead during every flight out of Mexico I stare out the window at the country disappearing from view, mourning the missed connections.
I’ve been home about three weeks. I was so relieved to be understood at home that I sort of “forgot” to speak Spanish. I took a sort of Spanish sabbatical. Now that I’ve recovered, I’m ready to dive back into Spanish practice. Next time I will be understood a fraction more. In the meantime, I’ll write long thank you cards with many exclamation points in the hopes that I can express in writing what I could not express with my voice.
What a thoughtful perspective! Love it!